


The Universe Must've Had a Grand Plan (For Our Paths to Cross)

by ily_like_a_banana



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ily_like_a_banana/pseuds/ily_like_a_banana
Summary: Despite all the what-if's, Minghao will always find his way home back to you.





	The Universe Must've Had a Grand Plan (For Our Paths to Cross)

the digital clock set by your bedside table reads 2:17 AM in red, bold numbers. you should be drifting away into slumber by this hour; fatigue hanging on your muscles and bones like invisible weights, feet dragging against the floor to reach your room just to throw your body to the bed like a sack of rice.

but tonight is a little different. tonight is a little special.

because three hours ago, minghao had arrived at your front door with a suitcase on his left, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, clad in a simple gray crewneck and a pair of joggers. no gucci t-shirts, no fancy berets, no flashy accessories. there is a slight gray tinge under his eyes, lips a pale pink without the usual make-up he’d sport yet, you may have felt your heart skipped a beat, like it momentarily lost track of its usual rhythm, an intake of breath caught on your throat without notice. 

wispy, twilight threads fall messily around his face, long enough that it’d ghost the skin near his dark eyes. you catch his lips quirk to a small smile, orbs like that of onyx twinkling in quiet blithe the moment it met yours. without wasting a second longer, you had flung your arms around his neck, earning you a languid chuckle from him as he simultaneously dropped his bag to bend down to match your height.

his arms wrapped around the half-moons of your waist almost like an automatic, natural response, eyes shut closed as if basking in your warmth against his skin and the sugary smell of vanilla from your hair. he had buried his face on the crook of your neck, partly for closer contact and partly for an attempt to mask his sniffling, warm droplets of tears unwillingly travel down his cheeks. it was then your turn to chuckle, threading your fingers over the hair behind his neck soothingly.

the exchange of greetings had been a quiet one, yet felt twice more intimate unlike before when you’d put up small banners that’d read ‘welcome home’ plastered on blank, beige walls and cook up a feast for two. now, three years of being together has turned the celebration into staying up late at night and greeting him by the door and him holding you in silence like he’s trying to make up for lost time, occasionally accompanied by silent tears and long i missed you kisses.

minghao now lays with you in bed, your head resting on top of his arm as you drape your leg across his. you welcome his warmth, breathing in the scent of his bath soap still faintly lingering on his skin mixed with the laundry detergent from the fresh set of clothing he’s changed into.

he plays with your tresses gently, fingers mindlessly combing through strands of hair. silence ensues between the both of you, a comfortable one, as you allow your body to be lulled to sleep whilst minghao remain deep in thought, tired but alert, his usual body clock accustomed to staying up at such ungodly hours.

“hao,” you gently call out, voice slightly raspy from the onset of drowsiness.

“hmm?” he hums, twirling a lock of your hair lazily around his finger.

“do you ever wonder what could’ve happened if we had never met? like what if we lived in different times? different eras? or lived at different places? what if you stayed in China with your family and our paths never crossed?” minghao catches the way your brows draw closer to a furrow with genuine curiosity.

you continue to blabber on, almost in a whisper, “what if you had decided to go against that almost mindless 2 second decision for you to say hello to me the first time we met? what if we never saw ourselves at the same place at the same time because one of us was a minute late or stuck in traffic or decided not to go at all?”

your eyes fixate outside the window beside the bed, silver moonlight streaming in the dark room. you hadn’t noticed you’ve been mindlessly tracing lines and scribbles on his chest as your eyes start to droop heavier with sleep.

for a moment, minghao remains silent, the what ifs swim in his mind to the point of feeling slightly overwhelmed. a two second choice and he could’ve missed this; you who he comes home to after long tours, you who he gets to hold at night, you who is his constant.

he tightens his arms around you protectively, as if something might take you away if he doesn’t. he plants a kiss on the top of your head gingerly, the type of kiss that makes you feel warm on the inside.

“i’d search for you,” he says, tilting your chin up and cupping your cheek, “in all the possible lifetimes, an innate part of me would; like a kind of longing without really knowing why. all my possible selves would search for this lifetime we live in now if i had to. but i get to live in it now where i’m with you,” his thumb strokes your skin, eyes twinkling as he chuckles, “and thank God, i’m with you.”

he leans in, kissing you once.

twice.

thrice.

“i love you,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. he then traces the outlines of your lips, a smile ghosting your face as your lids slowly flutter shut. minghao soon follows suite as he pulls you close - you who is the warmest place he knows.


End file.
